


Order

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-08
Updated: 2006-03-08
Packaged: 2018-08-16 03:57:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8086171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: (06/01/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

Malcolm Reed stepped up beside Jonathan Archer where he waited in the launchbay.

"Captain, I regret to inform you that I must flog your chief engineer."

"Can't let you do that, Malcolm, sorry."

"Sir, if I don't flog him, I will explode."

"No, you won't, Malcolm."

"Yes, yes, I will. He has in fact pushed me too far this time, and any second now I will erupt."

"No, you just think you will. I know, I've been there. As soon as he comes down here, express yourself." Archer aimed at the younger man a wry grin. He thumped his shoulder. "Trust me. You'll decompress in no time."

"May I strike him?"

"Nothing that will leave permanent damage."

"Aye, Sir."

"What will leave permanent damage?" Trip muttered, staring at some puzzling calculation in his hand. He flipped a look at the other two men. "Somethin' get hurt?"

"Nothing yet," Malcolm said.

Archer couldn't suppress the grin that slipped around the guardrails of his Captain's smile. "Trip, we need to talk to you about this mission of yours."

"Of mine?"

"Okay," Archer said, nodding to accept his portion of the blame. "The retrieval trip we planned. I've decided we should just haul it back for the salvage."

"But, Captain, we had it planned," Tucker said, his blue eyes pleading, But, Cap'n, you promised.

"I know. But I agreed as your friend. As your Captain, and under the advisement of our Security officer, I'm been made to see that the risk to you personally is too grave, when you consider the largely technical value, if downright fascinating material you would retrieve. C'mon, Trip, this was a science fair expedition."

"With valuable data we can recover!"

"It's value would be in the long term. And I understand the drive to go down there. But we'll only add a day to retrieve it roboticly. We'll harvest what we can use, have the value of the information, we can even wed it to the intermix if it's viable. But your being there is only a slight advantage, and the serious risks to you though slight are real."

"Jonathan, I can do this in my sleep."

"I know you can, Trip. I know you can. But this is a Command decision, and I've agreed, under the advisement of our Security officer, that there are extenuating circumstances that would best have you remain aboard ship."

The Captain looked from one of his angry officers to the other, locked stares embattled. He nodded toward no one in particular.

"And now, I'll beat a hasty retreat before I'm caught in the crossfire."

Tucker glanced over to watch their Captain's departure, only to look back at the other remaining man. Reed's eyes might have burned right through him, but the glare was less angry than hurt.

"Well, thank you very much, Malcolm," Tucker said, pitching his now-pointless calculations away. "I been caged up here for weeks without anything but mind-numbing maintenance to do. For once, I get a chance to dance and I get the floor yanked out from under me."

"What did you expect of me? Allow you to evade your life again by placing yourself in harm's way? Do foolhardy things under the false flag of some discovery mission? Hmm? I'm sorry, you may not value your life more than that, but I do. And so does the Captain, when I managed to point out to him the real reasons behind your death wish."

"What death wish? I wasn't gonna die, Malcolm. Jonathan at least had the faith in me to see I could do it. Excuse me for trying to live a little. Unlike some people."

"You were trying to escape your life. As usual."

Tucker held up his hands in conditional surrender, drawing back two steps. The look in Trip's eyes was the wary glare he wore in all potentially hostile situations. Reed had only begun to understand that this Dark Unknown included nearly everyone, even sometimes him. It was the gangly fear of a young man who rarely felt comfortable in unusual situations.

"We need to take this somewhere private," Reed said. "I suggest my quarters."

"Your quarters?" Tucker said. "Why, so you can clean up all the evidence? Naw, I think I prefer a neutral area. The launchbay will do just fine. I don't know what to say here anyway. Frankly, right now, I'd sooner be down there taking my chances with the space gargoyles. That's my job. I know how toâ€”"

"Is it your job," Reed interrupted, slowly but steadily, "to make my life all the more difficult?"

"Naw, I see that as a hobby," he said, trying a grin to disarm the moment. "That was a joke, Malcolm. You're supposed to laugh at 'em."

"You will notice I am not."

"It's kinda hard to miss."

"And there it is, the rest of your defense. Your affable southern charm. To neutralize all situations. You should know by now I am not easily disarmed."

"Yeah, no kidding. Everything is a defense thing to you. Okay, enough with small talk. Fine. Speak your mind." He looked upward, as though about to receive higher wisdom. "Pray tell, what unconscious defensiveness makes me do the terrible things I do?"

Reed moved forward, straight toward the other man. His arms folded across his chest, he had locked onto his target, with strategy well in mind. "There was a perfectly acceptable means of transporting the salvage to the ship. Yet for the mere curiousity value of seeing the relic in its original crash position, you would carelessly throw away your own life. You go out there and play astronaut. You play hero. You nearly get yourself killed. Fair enough, if you don't value your life, but I do value it. I value it deeply — "

Reed's words shut off at the source. He turned away, the formal posture now tightening into one of anger, pain.

"The Captain," Malcolm pressed on with tight, even words, "has T'Pol. Hoshi has Travis. Doctor Phlox has his creatureshop and his countless wives and their countless husbands. Everyone has someone else...except me. It's not that I don't care about everyone here, I do. But I don't feel for them as I feel for — "

Again, the words brooked up, and the man turned away. Before he had turned, Tucker had seen an unmistakable shine in his eyes. Reed swallowed hard, speaking only a few more words. "I strongly suggest we go to my quarters for the rest of this."

Tucker nodded, fully understanding, and feeling as if he'd sooner fix the steam heat in Hell than be dealing with matters of gentler emotions. "Okay, Malcolm. I see your point. Lead the way."

Malcolm Reed's quarters were less tightly regimented than spare and utterly optimized. Anything there served a respectable function. Generally, the two of them didn't spend much time hanging around Malcolm's place. It was about as sprawl and chawl as a dentist chair. Generally, they didn't spend a lot of time around Tucker's place either, since he largely just slept and dressed there. It was more a storage place than a home to him.

Commander Tucker retained his Starfleet stance at the entry, even as Malcolm triggered the door to close them in.

Reed gave him an ironic look, smartly kicking a compact breakdown couch out from neat storage under his bed. "As you were, Commander. You're in a junior officer's quarters, remember? Have a seat, if you like."

Tucker did so, surprised by the comfort of the breakdown couch thing which had seemed at a glance grim and unyielding. "Yeah, well, kinda felt like I was getting' court- martialed all the same. Busted down to my flannel footies. Sorry, that was a joke. I retract the humor, Your Tribunal Lord."

"Trip,." Malcolm said, as if the word was driven out into the room by the weight of his soul.

Tucker nodded. "Malcolm, I would never do anything to hurt you. I wouldn't. I don't do this relationship stuff well. I got a whole slew of buddies, but only a couple of real friends. Truth be told, everybody else just scares the holy piss outta me. And I only got one Malcolm. I sure as hell never want to lose him."  
Reed smiled sadly. It was his first tender expression of the hour. "You're never going to lose him, so long as you live. Emphasis on live."

Trip grinned. "I warn you, I'm gonna hug you for that one."

Reed withdrew the other half of the breakdown couch, surrendering to it. "And I warn you," His smiled deepened. "I'm gonna do a lot more than that."

Tucker grinned, a little oddly. He looked over at what had become of this lounge. "You gonna open up a can of whoopass on me after all?"

"I have no intention of harming you in the least, Mr. Tucker," he said, combing his fingers up into Trip's goldfloss hair.

Gently, tenderly, he leaned forward, moving his mouth over Trip's in a shy and gentle invitation. Invitation extended, Reed drew back again. His eyes remained closed, as though he couldn't bear to see Tucker's reaction to his offering.

"Do I gotta teach you everything?" Tucker whispered against the other man's lips. "You Armory Men don't even know how to kiss good."

Reed's eyelids tightened down against a subtle moisture gathering around each lash. He was fighting a wondrous smile. "Kiss well," he said.

"I intend to," Tucker answered, gently guiding Malcolm's soft smile toward his and joining their mouths together.

First kisses timid, seldom grow wild, some old earth poet guy had written, Trip recalled. But then old earth poet guys had never met his Malcolm.

Reed's mouth emboldened within the covenant of their mouths. Trip found his hair overrun by fingers, drawing him in to anchor their lips together. Their kiss burned blindly, hungrily after the newness of it, the arrant reality. A hard thrust of tongue met with a tender parry. The poetry of Trip's ingenuously loving caress to the artful passion of Malcolm's nibbling mouth. The moment ran wild and long and breathless, Malcolm final tackle for dominion triggering a passionate Tucker chuckle fit. Reed's powerplay was matched and bested, his body being pressed back against the bed.

"Stop that, damn it," Malcolm said, almost shocked at the high music of his own laughter. It always sounded like this with Trip. "Let me please win for once."

"For onceâ€”?" Tucker said, feeling a cool surface tickle the back of his throat, before a hot jolt of coherent pleasure blasted through Trip Tucker, as if summering lightning kicking through a Mississippi night.

Tucker found himself, sucking up a fugitive breath, supine against the bed. Malcolm was smiling hotly, lovingly, into his eyes. He kissed Tucker's throat.

"What in hell was that," Trip muttered, "and where the hell can I get some more?"

Reed brandished it with pride: a gold and crystal object. "It's a neural radionics benevolent weapons device. I built it just for you to offset the height differential and give me an even chance at being on top. It induces the effect of one second of three peak orgasms, enough for a disorientingly hot thrill without any ejaculate."

"But that's the best part."

"Which is why we save it for later." His smile shined just inches over Tucker's steady gaze. "I warn you, you'll find it impossible to topple me."

"Is that right?"

"That's right," Malcolm said, smiling.

"Well, I should warn you, Malcolm," Tucker said, his eyes clouding with the enormity of all he usually kept within, "if we start this, it's not ever bound to stop. And that scares hell out of me."

Reed smiled, the white point of light from a sheltered but always radiant sun.

"Perhaps it's always been. Perhaps it never really started, not will it ever end."

"Now don't go all mystical on me, Malcolm. Then I really will be scared."

"Be scared. But I am never going to let you run from me again." He rubbed his strong leg down Trip's open, unprotected thigh, as if to drive home the point.

"Unsettling to a wild stallion such as yourself no doubt, but deeply, almost disturbingly comforting in an odd way, too, isn't it?"

Tucker grinned up into the wide open eyes of the man he loved. "You have no idea what I'm gonna do when I get up from here."

"Fair enough," Reed said, smiling. "Because you have no idea what I'm gonna do while I'm still on top."


End file.
